Liars and Thieves
by thelast.thingido
Summary: "So what are you tonight, child?" There's a laugh in her voice, her head tilting slightly as she considers me. "A princess or a bandit?" . Snow stumbles upon Regina at the Rabbit Hole, drinking with her old guards . Regina/Snow . One Shot


AN: This is set after the events of "White Out", Regina has decided to find the author of the book and change her story...and she also decided to get completely wasted. Some of you may know that I'm a fan of drunk regina. :) I wrote this in retaliation for all the beautiful snow queen scenes that have been getting cut so early in the season. I'm still upset, so I'll just write a bunch of stories of them making out.

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><p>Liars and Thieves<p>

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><p>"Have you talked to Regina?" Red asks me as I'm trying to finish up the last of the paperwork that I'm still getting used to. Still getting used to being mayor, and being in this office, this overpowering sense of regality that screams Regina, and so of course Red brings her up. It's all anyone can think of when they stand in this office, and I'm putting in full work days, so of course.<p>

"No." I answer simply glancing up at her and I see her stretched out on a chair in front of the desk I'm sitting at.

"Are you worried?" She asks just as simply, because there aren't many words needed between us, not when it comes to this. We've known each other too long, so it's like I can practically hear her unasked questions.

"She talks to Henry. He says she's fine." Because she's always better with him, and if she doesn't shut him out, she will be fine. I suddenly realize that I've lost all focus on the work in front of me.

"Still though, it's odd."

I sigh at that, because talking about her and being here is just too much tonight. Red only stopped by to bring me some food since I was working late. We made idle chit chat as we ate, and she marveled at me actually letting David watch Neal for once, and you would think being able to keep myself distracted with being away from my son would be a good thing. But thoughts of Regina never end well.

I just want to finish my work and go home, and I think something in Red senses that, so she's quick to make her leave, giving a few friendly words and encouragement, which I reply with a genuine smile. And it only takes another hour for me to finish a simple report that should have been completed in fifteen minutes.

Eventually though, I'm walking home and enjoying the fresh and surprisingly warm night air, trying to clear my head. I've had Regina on my mind because of Red's vague yet telling conversation, but even before—all day in her office—all week, since the black out. So as I'm walking, thinking about her, purposely keeping my thoughts simple, always having a tendency to over think when it comes to the former queen, and it's because of that do I immediately see Regina's car parked down the street. My curiosity peaks and then becomes slightly suspicious when I see that it's parked in front of the Rabbit Hole.

It's not my business though, because it's late, but not _that_ late, and Henry is staying at our house for a few nights. So there's nothing wrong with her being out at a bar. A bar with a shady reputation, and the people that have been frequenting there lately are the kind of people that had warrants and bounties on their heads, back in the Enchanted Forest. Of course I could fit that description as well.

So it's not my business.

And I have no idea why I'm walking into the bar, but it might just be because I'm worried about her. Though that reasoning feels weak even to me.

The bar isn't terribly busy, and a few patrons spare me a mildly interested glance before going back to whoever or whatever previously had their attention. I feel ridiculous though, completely out of place and uncomfortable. Though all my reservations seem to be pushed into the back of my mind as I hear a very familiar laughter towards the back of the bar. It's Regina, and I can almost see her, so I take a few steps towards the sound of her voice, and then feel my stomach sink.

She's sitting at the head of one of the larger tables, three men placed on either side of her. Empty glasses and glasses being emptied quick enough, is littering the table. Beer and hard liquor plentiful in front of them, laughing and talking loudly and none of that is what worries me.

The men are _Regina's_ men.

Her guards from our old land, the ones that never left her side until the curse, and it stuns me still and mouth slightly agape as I watch them apparently catch up on old times. They're obviously not in the armor and uniforms of the Queen's Guard, opting for shirts and jeans, fisherman coats and baseball caps, but I recognize them all the same. Next to Regina, of course I would.

I take a few steps closer to the table, against my better judgment, and it's a few steps too close because suddenly I feel a strong grip on my upper arm. I look over to see a former guard that I didn't notice before attempting to pull me to the table, his eyes glossed over and smile wide.

"Your Majesty!" He yells out and gathers the attention of everyone in this bar, the smile on the former queen's face fades once her view flickers on his hand gripping me, but then her eyes quickly look up with a raised eyebrow. "I've finally captured the elusive Snow White." The man is very proud and very drunk and my face gets very red with anger, running on instinct when I turn and quickly knee him hard in the groin. A surprised grunt at the impact has him doubled over, and I use his weight against him, flipping him onto his back. He stays on the bar floor, groaning in pain as I look up at the rest of the table with a challenging look that's all adrenaline. Any other attacks I might have predicted don't seem like a possibility though, because the table burst out laughing, causing me to become suspicious and a little confused.

"And it seems she's escaped you just as quickly." Regina calls out to the groaning man on the floor. And she isn't just drinking, she's _drunk_. Her voice is slurred, face glowing and smile sloppy. Great.

I make my way around the table, past three laughing men whose names I don't know, and when I find myself next to Regina, she's pushing hard at the shoulders of a former guard next to her, causing him to almost stumble out of his seat.

"Make room for the princess, you idiot." And after a glare from him that's matched just as well by her, he finally does stumble away.

"Regina? What are you doing?" I whisper loud enough for her to hear as I sit down in the chair. My voice is a bit too frantic, but it's a jarring sight, to see her with these men again. Nothing good can come of it. She only spars a glance in my direction, a smirk permanently placed on her lips before she reaches down and quickly takes a shot of something brown and I can see the flinch on her face as it burns down her throat.

"I'm getting completely wasted, dear." Regina's voice croaks temporarily from the liquor, setting the now empty glass down and looking over to me fully. Her eyes scan my face for a moment before leaning in. I tense at the action, at the sudden distance closed, and my nose is filled with the overpowering smell of liquor and perfume. "It's their fault." She whispers to me. "They found me, Snow, they stole me away and called me Queen." Her voice carries a mocking fear in its tone, then her eyes move to the men at the table and she speaks loud enough for them to hear. "These bastards, they forced the alcohol in my hand, I swear."

"Long live the Queen!" The five of them yell in an attempted unison, but a few are too bleary eyed to keep up with the chant. Nothing good can come of this.

Suddenly, her hand is on my thigh, making me nearly jump a foot as she squeezes it gently and leans towards me again.

"Drink with me." Regina pushes a shot across the table, a little spilling on the wood at her miscalculated speed. Yet nothing seems to bother her at the moment, the liquor that lands on her fingers gets sucked off quickly as she places them in her mouth one by one.

"No, and I think maybe you've had enough." My words are distracted as I watch her look over to me, her middle finger still between her lips and something about it causes me to swallow hard.

I realize that her hand is still on my thigh, and the heat from it feels like it's burning, so I shift in my seat slightly, causing her to move it away

"Not even in light of our truce?" Regina asks innocently, fingers moving to trace the rim of the shot glass, and my eyes follow. "There's no bad blood between us anymore, dear Snow." Her voice is thick and slightly slurred as I tear my gaze away and meet her eyes that seem to be piecing into me through the cloud of inebriation. "No need for you to be so…" She scans over me with a look, taking in my simple white blouse that's conservative at the least, and it's a stark contrast to the red silk blouse she is donning, buttons undone almost enough to see— "Tightly wound." There's a heavy insinuation in her words, and I chalk it up to her drunkenness. "Surely you came here for more than your holier than thou judgments."

A flash of insult shines on my face.

"I was looking for you." My defense only causes her smirk to rise, her body swaying towards me slightly.

"As always, and you've found me, as always." Before I can process her words, she's tapping her finger on the table to distract me towards the alcohol in front of me once more. "One drink."

It's not safe for me to leave her here alone, and it's not safe for me to drink along these former guards with their Queen at the table's head. So, I'm contemplating, wondering how I can convince her to leave without calling Emma to break this up. Regina wouldn't forgive me for doing that, and the two of us finally are at a place where we—well, we tolerate each other. She tolerates me—

"Aye, she wouldn't be able to handle anything stronger than goats milk." One of the men announces loudly, with a thick accent of the northern lands that we're from. Laughter breaks out at the table, at my hesitation and expense, and my cheeks start to get hot. I should never have come in here, I should have let Regina drink herself stupid and live over her glory days through the slanted gaze of the alcohol. I don't belong here.

But then Regina is in my space once more, leaning in and resting her arm around the back of my chair, her smile playful and eyes that are bright and wild.

"So what are you tonight, child?" There's still a laugh in her voice, her head tilting slightly as she considers me. "A princess or a bandit?"

I glare at her obvious challenge, and a tension starts to build in me at the way she's suddenly speaking to me as if I'm still a girl and she's still a queen. This is stupid and dangerous, and everything that I don't do anymore.

A sigh and slight eye roll later, I'm knocking the shot back, feeling it burn down my throat. I ignore the cheers of the men and focus on not choking on what's apparently whiskey, though the burning in my throat is more tolerable when I feel Regina's fingers trail along my back gently as she pulls her arm away.

One drink.

Which turns into three, but I'm not drunk. Three is enough to make me relax a little, yet not let my defenses down completely. My head is fuzzy around the edges, but I can still focus. Mostly. Right now I'm trying to keep my focus on the man to my left, talking sloppily about his crush on Red, and wanting to know absolutely everything about her. I tell him she's a wolf, and it only makes him more interested. But he's one of the better men here, that much is obvious, because he's young and not far past twenty. He wasn't with Regina long enough to be too corrupted.

Speaking of what keeps stealing my focus, and the less than better men here. Jameson is sitting on the other side of Regina, their attention only on each other, and I know this man's name because he was the queen's number one guard. He never left her side, and he was the worst of them all. That is a fact that apparently hasn't changed, as he takes far too much liberty with the space between them, their bodies close as they talk quietly and laugh next to me.

It makes me feel tense and fidgety, and when I spare another glance at them, no longer interested in a boy's crush, I see him whispering in Regina's ear. Her head is tilted slightly towards him, as she gives a lopsided smile. My fists start to clench in my lap when I see her smile fade and her eyes flutter at whatever the hell he is saying to her. Then I see his hand suddenly appear on her leg, moving up her thigh and getting dangerously close to her skirt.

That tense feeling I've had since I sat down turns to an indignant anger so fast, that it even surprises me. The red in my eyes is so surprising in its quick intensity, that I have no idea that I'm pulling her gently out of her chair and away from him, until it's already happening and she's looking at me annoyed and confused.

I makes some excuse that I need to go to the bathroom, and keep urging her away from the table before she sees through me. Jameson stands with her, out of respect, but I see it as a move of intimidation, with all seven feet of this broad shouldered man just towering over of the two of us. I smile politely at him all the same, with warning in my eyes, because I don't care how tall he is. He has a scar on the back of his neck that his hair line covers and not many people know of it, but I do. Because I gave it to him.

We're moving towards the back of the bar, through a hallway and right past the bathroom. I have no intention of stopping, not until we're outside with some fresh air, or in her car with me driving her home. We just need to get out of here, get clear headed of my unpredictable emotions around her and of her intoxication. Just someplace where we can get a breath and think. So we move down the long hallway, and we make it half way to the back door before she stops, her hand gently sliding out of mine. I turn and look back at her, watching her smirk as she leans lazily against the wall and we watch each other until I realize that she's waiting on me.

"Let me take you home." It's posed as more of a question from me, because I don't want her temper to flair, and I do _not_ want to have to call Emma. Because all Emma would have to do is say some simple words and a few sarcastic comments, and it would be so easy for her to get Regina to go home. A part of me is jealous at how easily Emma can handle her, how everything just brushes off of my daughter's shoulders when it comes to the former queen's biting remarks. A part of me wants to prove that I can do this on my own. It's not a difficult notion, just taking a friend home who's drank too much. It's really an easy concept, even though Regina and I aren't friends, and even the thought of that title sits wrong in my mind.

"You might have to get in line." Regina murmurs, her eyes hooded but still staring me down. "I seem to be in high demand tonight." Her tone is playful as she winks at me, but I don't feel like playing this game. It makes me angry again, because I don't know what she's trying to accomplish, what a night out with liars and thieves will bring her, other than pain.

"Your guards were terrible and sleazy back in our land, and nothing has changed that." I snap a bit, my voice gaining an edge, but she remains unaffected, only sliding down the wall slightly and causing my eyes to watch her hips as they push out. "All they want to do is—…"

"Fuck me?"

I close my eyes for a moment, at the sound of _that_ word hitting my ears like a smack in the face, and I'm grateful that my eyes were on her body and not her face. Because watching _that_ word coming from her lips, the way I hear her draw it out with a soft tone. I don't think—

"And what do you wish to do?"

Already it seems as if the air is thinner in this hallway, yet there's a palpable tension that's settling between us.

"Now that you have me out of their sights,"

I watch her face now, because she's saying something important, something I should be focusing on, but my mind is getting clouded.

"Fighting for my eyes to land on you since the moment we met."

I just want to take her home.

"Regina…" There must be something in the way I say her name, something more revealing than I intend, or even realize, because as soon as it's said, she grins at me darkly, in a way that I remember well, and the shadows around her in this hallway make the memory potent. And then with an agility that seems impossible for her inebriated condition, she's pounces, both of her hands slamming into wall behind me on either side of my head, the proximity causing me to gasp and fall back against old and tattered wallpaper.

And with the look in her eyes, memories hit me like a speeding train, all the torment and anger—our blood soaked past with hands to match—running and fighting and everything was about _her_ and everything was about _me_.

The way I would wish and cry and dream about being the one that could take some of her pain away.

The way she would affect me, and say my name, and the thoughts I had. Thoughts that I pushed away, so far down for so long, and now it's like a flood gate all at once.

The way her dresses clung to the curves of her body.

The dangerous gleam in her eyes.

Her perfume.

She's wearing the same damned perfume tonight, and I try not to show how uneven my breathing has become.

"My, my," She whispers with a lazy sounding slur. "I've finally captured the elusive Snow White."

And the way she says my name.

Syllables pointed like knives, growling like a coming storm, and soothing like a siren.

Nothing good will come of this.

Yet I hold my ground regardless, and it's like a standoff after that, watching each other, and I could almost say that the tension between us is something two rivals would share, but we both spend more time looking at each other's lips then we do our eyes, in the few moments we spend silent. Until finally,

"You're drunk." I say, trying for a stern sort of annoyance and failing miserably, and I don't know if it's supposed to be an excuse or a reason, but she just smirks at me with glossed over eyes, looking so undone, and yet so in control all at the same time.

"Kiss me, before I'm not." Regina leans in, so I turn my head to the side.

"I'm married." I whisper, far too quietly, as if hoping she wouldn't hear, but my lips are close to her ear, and hers move to push against mine.

"You love me." A gasp escapes my lungs at that. She says it so confidently. As if she is so sure. I feel a blush start running up my neck as my thoughts start to get cloudy. "You've always loved me." Regina's running her lips along my cheek, not kissing and there's barely any pressure, just the soft feel of her lips trailing across my skin, moving back so that I can see her face. There's victory in her eyes. "We belong together."

I shake my head a little, eyebrows knitting, because this is crazy. This is just lingering thoughts from a traumatic past, it's displacement, it's martyr complexes, never really having a mother, and all the other things that Archie has told me in our sessions since the curse broke.

I belong with David, our love is undeniable and true. This—what this is between Regina and I, it isn't love. But it is something almost as potent, and much more dangerous.

"We don't—"

She kisses me then, cutting off my words, because she's drunk and I'm a liar, so I kiss her back. And as unsteady as she is, as much as her mouth tastes like whiskey when she opens it against mine, the kiss is still like a punch in my gut. It still has power and passion behind it, making me absolutely weak. It is so utterly unfair that I feel my eyes start tearing up, so I shut them tightly. Her mouth opens mine, tongue quick to explore beyond my lips, and her body pushes against me. This is moving too fast, and it's too much, and it's making me dizzy. She tastes like poison, but my hands are moving up around her neck regardless, thoughts drifting to when I was young, and the hours I would spend watching her. Wondering what this would feel like, for a girl that had nothing to compare to, and it was so innocent then, the thoughts I had. Now it's not, now it's about lust and sex, and her hand moves under my shirt to cup my breast.

Now it's real.

I break away from her just to breathe, smelling her shampoo as her face moves to the crook of my neck.

"Take me home." She whispers, dark and deep, and I moan because my mind fills with nothing but impurity at her eagerness. And hers seems to follow suit, the sounds from my throat spurring her on and kissing my neck, fingers pushing into my chest, and my back arches against the sensation.

Then she pulls away with a quick move, and I almost flinch at the speed, the action fast enough to think that she's going to strike out at me, maybe that she's sobered up and now all those consequences that I pretend don't exist—

"Now." Is all she says though, her eyes practically black as her hand moves out from under my shirt and waits on me.

The only thing I can do is nod dumbly, and take her hand, pulling her as fast as her unsteady feet can take her through the back door, and out to her car.

[]

I shrug her off of me three times on the ride back to her house, because she's trying to attach herself to my neck, her hands all over me, and I think I might crash her car if she doesn't stop. There's an intense hope that Emma isn't out patrolling tonight, that's she's already home or somewhere—anywhere that isn't on the road, as I speed down the streets. Regina's whispering words and giggling like a child that's about to get caught stealing.

She's whispering _bandit_ in my ear while fingers trace their way up my leg, and the bottom of her car hits a curb hard as I swerve into her driveway. It makes her giggle again, and I turn towards her as fast as it takes me to shift into park, pulling her into a hard kiss. Her hands start to work on the buttons of my blouse when I force myself to break away from her.

"You're impossible." I say against her smiling lips as I unbuckle my seat belt to turn towards her more.

"Bed." She hisses against my neck, kissing and biting gently, and I keep my focus on the feeling, making sure it's not hard enough to leave a mark. "I want you in my bed, Snow."

A moan breaks out of my lungs, while I drag myself away and out of her car and she follows quickly. I keep my distance from her as I fumble through her keys, not really knowing which one opens her door, and not wanting anyone seeing us make out on her front porch like a couple of hormonal teenagers. Hormones. That's what I'll blame this on in the morning, because I don't have the excuse of alcohol like Regina does. And the thought of an awkward morning after causes my mind to shut down, not wanting to focus on that right now.

It's a wild guess which key is for her front door, but it turns out to be right, so I'm pulling her into the house and past the threshold, leaning into kiss her again, but she takes a few steps backwards with a smirk on her lips, ducking my advances playfully, but her games at best verge on cruel.

"Bed." She whispers again, so I smile and follow her up the stairs, keeping my eyes on the sway of her hips and almost in awe of this actually happening. I am actually invited in the queen's bed, because despite the numerous rumors back in our land, it was an honor she did not grant many. It was too much of a risk, as hated as she was, and as untrusting as her nature was.

This line of thought makes me nervous once we make in to her bedroom, insecurities rising inside me as I look over the bedroom that I've never been in before. This was actually happening, something like this would come with expectations from her. I'm sure it wasn't nearly as romanticized in her mind as it was in mine, but still. I've never been with a woman before, and certainly not one like Regina.

She walks farther into the room, almost making it to the bed before she turns to see that I've stopped right inside the doorway. And instead of saying a sarcastic or mean spirited comment, she does something even more cruel.

Her hand raises to reach out for me, with a soft smile and an even softer; "It's okay." Regina's voice is nothing but comfort and understanding, and it's been _so_ long since I've heard her speak to me in that way. I feel my heart cracking open and all my insecurities melt away, making it very worrisome at how much this woman affects me. My feet quickly take me to her outstretched hand, as they both raise to wrap around my neck when I pull her into me for a kiss. Something slow but deep, sloppy and amazing as she tries to deepen it and I try to slow her. And I could do nothing but this for the rest of my life, and die happy.

My hands move to the buttons of her blouse, undoing them one by one, marveling at the fact that she's letting me. She's _letting_ me kiss her and touch her, and if the soft noises that are coming from her throat are any indication, she's _enjoying_ it. I can definitely die happy. Though I could be happier if I wasn't stuck on this third button, fingers shaking slightly as I pull away from the kiss, breathing heavy and looking down. Half of the shirt is already undone, exposing her in a black lace bra that looks more expensive than my entire wardrobe. I actually whimper at the sight, finger gently and carefully tracing the top of her breasts and moving around it's curves.

"Is this how you imagined it?" She asks lightly, and I can feel her smirk without looking up.

"I imagined that you would be sober." My answer matches her tone, a smile tugging at my lips despite my utterly distracted focus on her chest as I finally move to finish off the buttons.

"I'd never let you touch me sober."

My face falls. So do my hands, dropping slowly to my sides.

I shouldn't let her words hurt me, because her tone holds no cruelty in it, still sounding light and almost playful. But they do, like a stabbing in my chest. I think what makes it hurt, is that she doesn't say it to hurt me, it's only a flippant comment just as casual as anything else. She only says it because it's true.

"Why?" I ask with a crack in my voice as I look up and see her watching me. Regina's face steels itself at that, as if a moment of clarity strikes her, and as always the clarity brings about a painful sort of anger that's always at the surface when it comes to me.

"You're a bandit. I've learned my lesson from your kind." A little confusion washes over my face, but I'm swallowing hard as she steps into me, causing me to step back and moving me to the edge of her bed. She's speaking suddenly as the Queen, her slight accent I remember from our land coming to the surface, and once her face is close to mine; "You burrow your way in, don't you?" A gentle push causes me to fall back against the mattress. And there's no air left in my lungs, and no blood left in my head when I watch her lick her lips and crawl on the bed after me. I'm sliding back on the mattress and lying down as she straddles my hips. "You give the sweetest smiles," Regina's eyes are glossy and very dark, her hands moving under my blouse and up the curve of my hips. "And say all the right things," Her voice sounds like sex and danger. "Steal my _happiness_," At that bitterly emphasized word, her hands grip tightly into my sides, right below my ribs, holding onto me as she rolls her hips into mine and causing me to moan and grip at her thighs. "And then you're gone." I'm about to protest, at those words that I have a hard time focusing on, and it's something I should try to placate. But she smiles her dark kind of smile and leans down over me, bringing her face close to mine. "You're all the same. You _thieves_."

Regina's lips go onto my neck, but I go cold all over.

Because I get it now. And really, I am an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

As her mouth moves against my skin, I don't even feel it, too overwhelmed with the realization that this has to stop. Now.

I pull her up and away from me gently, and she moves her face in front of mine with a look of slight confusion. I sigh heavy and I think she's about to realize how upset I am, so my hand cups her cheek and I lean in to kiss her. Just one more time, and maybe I give the kiss literally everything that I have. Maybe it's every emotion and thought I've ever had of her, focused from my lips to hers, moving against her mouth slow but with purpose and lost possibilities, and _pain_, and love. Maybe it lasts much longer than it should, but I know it will be the last time I get to do this.

When I finally pull away, she's breathing heavy and her sight is unfocused, looking so completely affected by the kiss. Bewildered and confused, and it pulls emotions out of her, ones quickly surfacing to her face, before she stones her features towards me, just as she always does.

"We have to stop." I whisper, and the anger is back on her face, but it's not as strong this time as her jaw clenches.

My head turns away and towards the wall as she rolls off of me, lying down heavily on the bed.

We stay like this for a while, my thoughts only of her, as if I can never remember anything else. And her thoughts of me, well, she's seen me as nothing but a bandit all night, nothing but what she wanted to see. A _thief_. Robin Hood. The thought that she only saw another _him_ when she looked at me—

_You love me_

_We belong together_

I shut my eyes against the tears threatening to spill.

She's still and quiet next to me for a long time, until she finally says;

"What was it then? Thoughts of a family at home?" She sounds far away, tired and defeated.

And of course she only saw him when she looked at me. I was doing what she wanted _him_ to do, give up everything at just the chance to be with her. But this is painfully one sided, and we were each other's everything, in one way or another, for so long, but it isn't the way the story ends. Pixie dust didn't lead her to me, and David is at home right now with our baby, and I'm playing out teenage fantasies, despite the fact that I was right. Regina and I didn't belong together. Fate made it that way, and we could be civil and possibly coexist, but we couldn't be what I wanted us to be.

"No." I answer honestly, and I want to add more, maybe something like a lie wrapped in truth. To tell her that I don't want to hurt her—that this is something we could never come back from, that it's just another thing that will be torn away from her. And she's drunk and vulnerable, and I'm just more than willing to take advantage of that—of her. She would have been safer with her guards.

My head turns to look over at her and see her eyes closed, arm draped over her face, blocking it mostly from my view. I wonder if she's asleep for a moment.

"Get out." It's not an order, her tone has no fight in it, but there's a pain there, one I've heard in her voice so many times before. The pain that only I can cause her.

I roll off of her bed, pulling her blankets down and over her. She doesn't give a protest, only curls up into her side, eyes never opening as she adjusts herself to lie on the pillows.

Then I leave, and make it downstairs before I realize that I can't bare having her wake up in the morning alone. I settle myself on the living room couch, pulling out spare covers from a linen closet that doesn't take long to find. Sleep doesn't come soundly for me though, my thoughts battling between their wishes of her waking without memory of tonight, and the selfish wish that it was something important enough for her to never forget.

[]

It's almost ten in the morning before I finally hear her stirring upstairs, the faint creaks of her footsteps in the ceiling. I quickly busy myself with the coffee maker, trying to keep my nerves at bay. She freezes mid step when she sees me in the kitchen, looking completely hung over. Her eyes are blood shot, cloths wrinkled, and I hope she doesn't throw a fire ball at me for seeing her in such a vulnerable state. Though from the looks of her cringe as she steps into the bright lights of the kitchen, I doubt her headache will allow it. Regina seems surprised to see me, but not as surprised as she should be, just confused and a little wary as she moves to sit on a stool at her kitchen island. Not as surprised as she should be, if she didn't remember anything from last night, and I feel anxious because after the internal debate last night, I was really hoping she wouldn't.

"Do you want some coffee?" I finally ask quietly, and she nods almost immediately. So I'm pouring her a cup, and try to think how it is that I know what she takes in her coffee. Two sugars, no cream. How would I know that? Maybe some residual people watching I did as 'Mary Margaret'. As I'm fixing it, I hear her clear her throat before speaking in a voice that has a rasp to it.

"What happened last night?"

I almost sigh in relief at the question, the question that sounds like the most beautiful words spoken at this moment. Instead I turn with her cup and a small smile.

"You were at the Rabbit Hole, drinking with some of your old guards—" I'm setting the cup down in front of her when she interrupts me.

"I remember all of that. What happened with us?" My hand freezes before I let go of the coffee, my eyes shooting up to meet her pointed words, unable to answer until a very familiar look of fury driven annoyance crosses her face. "Why are you here?" She snaps, speaking slowly, as if I'm an idiot. And of course she thinks I am, I'm certainly acting like one. I do sigh this time, pulling away from the table, to turn back over and take my time pouring myself some coffee.

"I took you home." I respond simply, the machine next to me buzzing and gurgling as it refills itself, and the noise along with my distracted thoughts must be why I don't hear her get up from her seat. Because the next thing I hear is her harsh voice right behind me, causing me to jump.

"Don't play games." My body turns quickly, and then pushes back into counter when I see how close she is to me, angry eyes searching my face. "I can still smell you on my clothes. What did we do?"

I'm grateful we didn't have sex last night, grateful all over again for more reasons, because there's suddenly such fear on her face at the question, fear for the answer, and she tries to hide it away, just as she tries with everything when it comes to me, but I've known her for a lifetime by now, so I see it.

I can't lie to her, because she deserves better than that now.

"…We kissed." My voice is quiet and almost sounds like a whisper, and I see her sight skirt to my lips for a brief second, and her eyes widen slightly. Omission of truth is just as bad, and I know it, but I'm too selfish to tell her everything. I can't stand the idea of her hating me again, and I know she would if she knew, but she's still waiting on me to give her more than that weak answer. "You kissed me…but I kissed you back." I'm nervous and stumbling on my words, my eyes looking away and it causes her to tilt her head, trying to gain back the contact. "…and—"

"And, what?" Regina asks quietly.

"Then I took you home, and made sure you got into bed safe, but I slept downstairs." My voice gains more strength, looking back at her. It's not a lie. It's an omission. It's just as bad, and I know it. And I'll never lie again, never in my life, if she just lets me have this one. Just this once.

A long moment of silence passes, as she searches my face still, contemplating, until finally Regina relents and moves back to lean against the kitchen island in front of me.

"Will you be telling Charming?" Her voice sounds almost normal now, almost in control.

"I wasn't going to. But I will if you want." The idea of telling him does not appeal to me, but her having that kind of leverage over me appeals even less.

"I don't." She physically flinches at the idea, and then we're silent again, both of us leaning against opposite counters, my eyes on the floor because I feel hers on me. We stay like that for a while, until it's awkward, and I wait one second too long to open my mouth and make some excuse to leave.

"So, what was it then?" Her words cause the breath to still in my lungs. "…if not your family?" She looks at me knowingly, because she _knows_. My face turns red at a sudden embarrassment, but there's no mocking tone, no cruel expression on her face. Though her features are intense and serious as they stare me down.

"…You remember?" The words crack in my ears, and I feel a blush rising up my neck.

"I wasn't that drunk." Her eyebrow raises and I feel a rush of offense at it, because she knew this whole time, she just wanted to see if I'd tell her. I feel tricked and hurt for a moment.

"Drunk enough to let me touch you." There's a very obvious and bitter accusation in my voice before I can think better of it, and I should have because her sight goes a little red at that.

"You're someone's wife and mother, yet you insisted on finding your way into _my_ bed." My blush comes back tenfold. "And yet, _I'm_ the bad guy." She scolds me and I deserve it, so I just stare at the ground and chew the insides of my cheeks. "Typical." She finishes, half-heartedly, and with a sigh of defeat I glance back up to see her face clear of anger.

"Answer the question." Regina states simply.

"I wanted to." My almost whisper is not an answer, and we both know that I'm stalling.

"That much was obvious." She almost snaps, her patience running thin. So I take a deep breath and look in her eyes.

"I love you, and I know you don't love me." I speak without pause, not needing to see if she would dispute it, because she won't. "It would've hurt too much."

And that was the thick and thin of it. My selfish truth of self-preservation.

Regina absently licks her lips, and I purposely don't look.

"It doesn't hurt now?" Her voice is quiet and curious.

"I can still stand it." A sigh escapes me, feeling odd yet relieved that this conversation was taking such a casual yet heavy tone. She isn't angry or cruel or even resentful. That is making this bearable at least.

"I have to say I'm surprised." Regina finally says and my eyebrows crease in confusion.

"That I love you?"

She rolls her eyes at that.

"That would be like being surprised that the sun came up in the morning." Her sarcasm doesn't last long and a small smirk settles on her face. "…I'm surprised that you're such a good kisser."

Well, my whole body just flares red at that. A simple and stupid compliment, and I can barely even handle that. It was a very good idea that we didn't have sex last night. With red cheeks, I smile at her smirk.

"Well, I have broken a few curses, you know."

This time when she runs her tongue over her bottom lip, I do look.

"I think I recall."

I shake my head slightly, breaking my line of sight and trying to clear my head. Eventually I look back at her and she's still watching me as if it was just the most natural things to do. With a quick clearing of my throat, I attempt to lighten the mood.

"Maybe, in a different life," Her eyes flash with interest and almost suspicion at those words, and it causes me to pause. It makes me wonder what she's suddenly so interested in—what she wants me to say. I opt for a safe finish. "We might've gotten along better." I give her a small smile, but the look on her face doesn't waver. She's considering something, I can tell.

"Been happy?" She asks quietly, and there's a weight that settles in this conversation once again, but it's one sided. I can't figure out what she's thinking. So I shrug as casually as I can manage.

"Who knows."

Then her body is pushing off of the counter as she slowly takes a few steps towards me, and it makes me tense immediately.

I don't stop her though, not when the distance between us is barely anything, or when my breath is hitching as her hand raises to brush against my reddening cheek.

"A different ending to our story…" Thinking and considering as she murmurs, and then leaning in to kiss me. I'm melting all over again, completely undone by the gentle and soft feel of her lips. There is no lust or frantic pace in this kiss, it's not rough or desperate. It's simple and slow, and once I tilt my head to deepen it, Regina pulls away, but keeps her face close to mine. My teeth catch my bottom lip to keep from moaning or making any other embarrassing sound, and when she looks down to my mouth, her thumb brushes against the lip, causing me to release it.

"Maybe."

I'm about to kiss her again, to say screw it and take her back upstairs, and never leave. Let the pain devour me, let it kill me, just as it was always meant to be, because even in Regina's disastrous state, even hung over and disheveled, she is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

There's buzzing next to me, a sudden interruption that she almost looks grateful for, sliding away smoothly, as I look over to see my phone vibrating gently against the far kitchen counter where I set it this morning.

"As it stands," She speaks and I pretend not to notice when she clears her throat to get more control over voice. I pretend that this doesn't affect her at all, that she's as cool and collected as always. I lie to myself, because it's easier that way. "You have another happy ending waiting for you, dear." My eyes still on the phone, I hear her walk out of the kitchen

So I do what I should, what fate allotted me, and go back to my happiness and to my ending to the story. It hurts either way, but at least it's a pain that I can stand.


End file.
